The CEO Daddy Next Door (6 page)

Was he doing that again? Convincing himself that making love to Ashley would be okay simply because he wanted to? That was such a selfish attitude, it nearly made him sick. He'd sworn he'd never be like that again.

“I can't do this,” he said, disbelieving the words as they came from his mouth. He wanted her so badly he could taste it, taste her, as sweetness on his lips. An unforgettable sweetness. And then there was the tide that had engulfed the lower half of his body. How would he just ignore that? It didn't matter. He had to.

Ashley looked down at him with those eyes—sincere and genuine. “I don't understand.”

“We both know where this is going, and I can't do that. I can't have a casual affair. Not as a dad. Not with Lila in my life. This is about much more than me.”

“I wasn't aware we were having an affair.” She rolled off him and grabbed the covers, clutching them to her chest.

He shook his head. “I can't just sleep with you one time. What kind of man would that make me?”

“Who said anything about just sleeping together one time? Why can't we take it slow? Four hours ago I was pretty sure you still hated me. At least give me a chance to catch up. You aren't the only one coming off a bad breakup.”

Everything she'd just said was precisely why this wouldn't work. She didn't get it. “I wouldn't characterize my failed marriage as a bad breakup.” It had been far worse than that. His failed marriage had nearly destroyed him and it remained to be seen what lasting effects it would have on Lila. He grabbed his trousers from the floor and put them on in a hurry, trying to ignore his physical agony. “There is no slow for me, Ashley. There's more at stake here than a tryst. You're a smart, beautiful, successful woman, and somewhere out there is the perfect man for you. I'm just not him.” He pushed his arms through his sleeves, only bothering with a few of the buttons on his shirt.

“But we're still getting to know each other. I like you, in spite of the way you act sometimes. And I think you like me, but you're making a lot of assumptions about what's a good idea and what you think I want.”

“I didn't pull these ideas out of thin air. You told me during our first date that your last boyfriend left because you were unwilling to get married and become a mom. I realize that's serious stuff to talk about in the early days, but that's the reality of my situation. There's no getting around it.”

“You didn't even let me tell you the whole story that night. I would get married if it was the right situation, but let's not forget that you've spent much of the last several months acting as though you don't even like me.”

Marcus knew his behavior hadn't been the best, but he'd never done anything that wasn't completely justified. “And it's clear that the situation between us isn't right. We're attracted to each other, but we're otherwise opposites. I'm serious. You're not.”

“Serious? My whole life has been about serious.”

“Really? A television show about matchmaking, intermingled with shopping for apartment furniture and dismissing the horrible behavior of your contractor? We have very different ideas of what
serious
means.” Even in the dim light of the room, it was clear how badly his words had hurt her. He didn't like hurting a woman, but maybe it was for the best. It would make it easier to stay away from her.

Wrapping herself in the sheets, she hopped off the bed. “Fine. You know what? You're right. We're wrong for each other. Just go.”

“Good. Then we agree.”

“For once we agree.”

Seven

A
shley dropped her purse on her desk, confronted by the black-and-white evidence of Marcus's apparent weak moment last night. The first of many weak moments
.

Nearly a dozen daily tabloids had been laid out for her. The kiss graced every cover, with clever headlines like The Kiss Heard Round the World. If only the papers knew the real story. British Hunk Rejects Dateless Matchmaker.
Her stomach soured. She should be remembering the kiss fondly, reminiscing about the surprise and newness of that moment—the instant when she'd dared to think Marcus didn't think she was ridiculous.

She plopped down in her chair and began to read the papers. They not only recounted the kiss but also very unsubtly mentioned that she and Marcus had left the party early, right after things got hot and heavy on the dance floor.
Great. Now the whole world is imagining what we didn't actually do last night.

It was barely past nine a.m. and exhaustion threatened to overtake her, but she didn't dare close her eyes. She'd learned her lesson last night after he'd left her in a state of shock, alone with the memory of what they'd done in her bed. Every sexy moment between them was so surreal now, the unlikeliest events imaginable considering their ill-fated first date and the countless complaints about her apartment that had preceded them.

Seeing a picture of the way it all started last night didn't make it more real, not even when she dragged her finger along the photograph, admiring the way he towered over her, the way she fit so perfectly in his arms. If anything, it made it feel even more like a dream, and one with a very sad ending. Had Marcus, the upper-crust Brit, really kissed the girl from a one-gas-station town in South Carolina? Or had he played along with the ruse of a romance with the Manhattan Matchmaker for the benefit of himself and his company? Only to put an end to it when he realized they'd gone much further than he'd ever intended?

She'd seen so many different sides of Marcus last night, it was hard to keep up. There was no longer any doubt in her mind that a fiery, passionate Marcus was beneath his rigid exterior, but he'd built a damn fortress around himself. Had it been a necessity after his divorce? It was the most logical guess, but she didn't have much faith in rational thought, or at least not her own. Logic said that a man with an impressive erection who had an eager and naked woman in his arms didn't hesitate to make love to her. Either she was truly distasteful or something much bigger was keeping him from her. She'd gotten too close to him last night, and as a result, he'd banished her to the other side of the moat, pulled up the drawbridge, and retreated to his own bed.

“Knock, knock.” Grace poked her head into Ashley's office. “What a night, huh? Or should I say, what a kiss?” Her eyebrows bobbed up and down.

Ashley should've known she'd get teased about this. “Please don't give me a hard time about it. You asked for romance. We gave it to you.”
Romance. Ha. More like no-mance.

“I would never give you a hard time about this. Are you kidding me? The network brass love you today more than they've ever loved you, which is saying a lot. The ratings for the first episode tonight are going to be massive. Through the roof. They can't wait to see the numbers on Monday so they can start raking in advertisers' cash. There's a whole pile of money to be made, you know.”

Money. That was the sole silver lining. Everything else about this made her queasy. Marcus abhorred the idea of her, at least when it came to romance, and the world thought quite the contrary. She was going to get questions about Marcus for days. Weeks, maybe. She knew the tabloids well enough by now. This morning's papers would not be the last of the kiss that blew up in her face.

“I'm happy they're happy. I hope it will help Marcus's business and he'll let me finish my renovations in peace.” Her voice trailed off as her eyes were again drawn to a photo of the kiss. Good God, he was sexy. Just looking at the picture made his sexiness resonate in her body, followed by a flood of rejection, sadness and even anger—feelings that did not play well together.

“Hold on a second. Was there not a major love connection last night? Because it sure as hell looked like it.”

“Let's just say the connection fizzled.” Her voice wobbled, betraying her intention to not let anyone know how much this bothered her.

Grace sat forward. “Are you okay? Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Ashley shook her head. “I really don't want to rehash it. I'm glad that last night was good for business, but it's going to take me some serious time to heal from it. Being rejected by Marcus Chambers is not fun.”

“He rejected you?”

“Is that so hard to believe? You know how he feels about me. Last night was just the final nail in the coffin. At this point, all I want is to finish my apartment and avoid him until the day he moves back to England.”

“And when is that?”

She cleared her throat. “I think he has a five-year work visa.”

“Ashley, this is silly. I'm sure that whatever happened last night was a misunderstanding.”

“No way. This is a dead subject. Time to get whatever mileage we can out of last night and move on.”

“Uh, yeah, about that. The higher-ups were emphatic with me this morning. They want more of you and Marcus. They want more of this.” She leaned forward and tapped one of the newspapers.

Ashley knew she'd heard Grace correctly. She just wasn't happy about it. She and Marcus had to stay away from each other. Better to leave grumpy dogs lie, especially ones who had no qualms about turning down a woman after she'd taken off her designer gown. “You're just going to have to tell them no. Marcus hates me.”

“There's no way we'll get the network to buy that. That kiss was convincing.” Grace pointed at Ashley's desk. “Look at you two. I'd do anything for a man to kiss me like that, especially if I knew he looked like he does under that suit.”

“What is it with you and his abs?” Ashley couldn't stand to look at the photos anymore. It hurt too much. She collected the stack of papers, got up from her chair and plopped them down in Grace's lap. “Marcus Chambers and I are done. Kaput. End of story.”

“I didn't want to have to tell you this, but the network is not happy you left the party early. If the papers hadn't come out this morning, you could've been in serious hot water.”

“Oh please. I just...”
I just wanted to be alone with him.
“I had a headache.”

“Liar. I saw the look on your face when you two walked off the dance floor.” Grace sat back in her chair. “What if I told you my job is hanging in the balance?”

“They can't fire you over this. I won't let them.”

“I'm talking about a promotion. They're considering me for head of network publicity. Becky Jensen is leaving at the beginning of June.”

“Head of the department? For the whole network?”

Grace nodded. “The whole shebang.”

Grace had come from similarly humble beginnings, and they always had each other's back. She lived in a postage stamp of an apartment with her sister and had student debt up to her eyeballs. A promotion like that would be a boon for Grace, and well-deserved. She worked as hard as Ashley, maybe even harder.

The guilt wasn't merely crushing, it was suffocating. Ashley couldn't take money out of someone else's mouth, let alone the mouth of a good friend. “I don't know how I can convince him to say yes.”

Grace crossed her legs, pulling on her long auburn locks, seeming deep in thought. “You both have to eat, don't you? Just go out to dinner with the man. Remind him how much good it'll do for Chambers Gin.”

Ashley sighed, slumping back in her chair. “One dinner?” Why did the task seem so Herculean? Oh, right. Because Marcus had made it clear last night. He couldn't be around her.

“After that, it's your call. We'll just let all the world wonder what you two are doing up in that lovely high-rise apartment building. You do live across the hall from each other, after all. The proximity is nothing but sheer temptation.”

Given Ashley's current level of sexual frustration, she couldn't argue, even though she was certain Marcus didn't see it that way at all. “Fine. I'll ask him. But I'm not promising anything.”

Grace stood up and clutched the stack of newspapers to her chest, smiling wide, victorious. “Where are you watching the premiere tonight? Do you want to come over?”

Ashley shook her head. “Are you kidding me? The last thing I want to do is watch myself on television.”

* * *

Marcus couldn't stand to look at the newspapers. Except that he couldn't stand
not
to look at them, either. He'd removed all copies from his personal office, save one tucked away in the bottom-right desk drawer. There'd been more than one moment during the day when he had to see it. See her. See them. Last night had really happened. He'd kissed Ashley. He'd touched her. He'd kissed her and touched her and the entire world had shifted, exactly as he'd feared.

Marcus stepped into Joanna's office just as she hung up the phone. He had to catch up with her. They'd both been working nonstop all day. He nearly collapsed in the chair opposite her desk. The ripple effect of kissing Ashley was rife with bizarre good fortune. New orders and inquiries had left everyone in the office scrambling to keep up.

“That was Dad,” Joanna said. “He's right chuffed, Marcus. I haven't heard him so excited in I don't know how long.”

He'd had rumblings of this, but only Joanna had spoken directly to their father. It seemed that the kiss heard round the world had taken no time reaching across the pond. “More orders?”

“They've gone through the roof. And it's not just for No. 9. Orders for the original are more than triple what they were for April of last year. All from one day. We're bumping up UK production, and I think we need to take a long, hard look at doing the same in the US.”

He would indeed need to speak to their production manager about bringing the new distillery up to peak production. It was a scary proposition, seeing as it hadn't been tested at full capacity.

“Dad asked whether there will be any signage linking Chambers and
Manhattan Matchmaker
. I guess several of the distributors are wondering about it.”

Bloody hell.
A vision of a cardboard cutout of Ashley holding a bottle of Chambers gin materialized in his head. He could see Joanna wanting to put one out in the reception area. As if it wasn't difficult enough to live across the hall from Ashley, he'd have to walk past that every day. Plus, that was not the image of Chambers Gin his family had worked at cultivating for more than a century. He and Joanna had been working their fingers to the bone to make the US venture a success, but even a big break like the publicity of last night needed to be contained.
This would get out of hand in little time if he didn't put a stop to it. “There's not going to be any signage. Last night was a one-time thing, and that was that. There is no link between us and her show.”

A cheeky smile crossed Joanna's face. She held up one of that morning's newspapers. “We could always just laminate this. From the look of this photograph, I'd say that Chambers gin and
Manhattan Matchmaker
are about as linked as can be.”

A familiarly unsettling mix of embarrassment and excitement returned. “That kiss was for the cameras. And that's all it was. It will not be happening again.” Except that the cameras were a convenient excuse. Something else was behind it, and he knew it. Something else was behind kissing her in her apartment, taking off her dress. If he thought about the look on her face as he'd sent her into oblivion, he felt drunk. If he thought about what had happened afterward—his sheer panic—he felt hungover. There was no getting around it. He absolutely had to stay away from Ashley. He simply wasn't his normal, sensible self around her.

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Last night was huge for us. And hey, at least you kissed someone.” She giggled, her eyebrows bouncing.

“Please, Joanna. I beg you. I'm a grown man. Can we stop talking like a bunch of teenagers?” He brushed away a piece of lint on his pants. “Last night was a one-time thing and that's it. End of discussion.”

Joanna twisted her lips. “Uh, yeah. About that...”

“What?”

“Dad really wants you to take out Ashley again.”

“He said that?” Marcus bolted forward in his seat. “He explicitly said that?”

She nodded. “And I have to agree with him. You should at least take her out for a nice meal to thank her for last night. It's great for business and don't forget that it was your idea to expand into the US.” Joanna tapped away on her laptop. “I think the fact that you met Ashley and had the chance to take her out is wonderful. You can't argue it's not the best thing that's happened to us since we came to New York.” She patted the stack of new orders and wholesale inquiries sitting on her desk. “If you play your cards right, it could be the best thing that's happened in your personal life.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Joanna closed her laptop and folded her arms across it. “She's lovely, Marcus. And granted, I haven't met her or anything, but she seems like quite a nice woman.”

“I know where you're going with this, and you can stop right now. You know my situation, Jo. Better than anyone.”

She rose from her seat and rounded to the front of her desk. “What is your situation, Marcus? Working impossible hours to measure up to some imagined standard you set for yourself, then going home and reading a book to Lila? Spending the weekends taking her to the park, but not interacting with another soul in this enormous city? There are thousands of single women in Manhattan, Marcus. Tens of thousands. One of them could make a wonderful wife and mother, but you'll never find her if you don't look.”